


Light Rises

by barefootwits



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Undeath, Post-Canon Fix-It, Rediscovered Feelings, Temporary Character Death, rebuilding relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-09-01 21:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20264593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barefootwits/pseuds/barefootwits
Summary: "It’s too much. The light crests and it’s too much."Noctis gives his life to save Eos. Gladio, Prompto, and Ignis find him on his throne, as the daylight breaks.





	Light Rises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catsinouterspace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsinouterspace/gifts).

> Here it is, my first foray outside of strictly Gladnoct. I loved writing this. Parts of it were really challenging, while other parts (over 1000 words worth, somehow) just flowed out of me. I wrote this is for the [Final Fantasy XV Exchange (2019)](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Final_Fantasy_XV_Exchange_2019), for [catsinouterspace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsinouterspace). They gave me some wonderful prompts to work with, and I decided to use this one: "A fix it fic!!! Oh my god there are very little of these and I just want to give my boys a happy ending – a post cannon where Noct lives or is brought back to life?"
> 
> Big, big thank yous to Stitch, for encouraging me so much as I wrote this and always being enthusiastic about the words I have for these boys. And to Gabe, for taking the time to beta-read for me when this was still only partly done and offering me your thoughts. <3 
> 
> I really hope it's enjoyed! Thank you for stopping by to read! All kudos and comments are ridiculously appreciated!!
> 
> I'm always happy to make new friends! I'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/barefootwits) with the same handle and also on [tumblr](https://of-courf-not.tumblr.com/)! Come say hello or barrel in to talk about XV with me!!

* * *

It’s too much. The light crests and it’s too much. 

Gladio and Prompto have to turn away, and even Ignis has to close his eyes against it. 

Prompto tries not to, because he’s helping steady Ignis where they stand on the stairs, but he can’t stop it happening. He ends up shaking from his sobs, body wracked with them, and he crumples. It off-balances Ignis a little, though he catches himself. He silently reaches out and finds Prompto’s hair, letting his hand sink into it, brushing it back once before simply resting it atop the blonde’s head. He cries so silently while Prompto’s anguish is loud and awful, resounding against the walls of the desolate palace.

Already completely up the stairs, Gladio steps toward the throne, just one step, and has to stop. His vision blurs, tears filling his eyes without stopping, tracking down his cheeks. 

They stay there, near their King, bathed slowly in the rising light. As the sun crests and makes gradual progress across the sky, it makes the room glow. 

It does not rise alone. 

There’s some small sound that reaches Ignis over the broken gasps and cries from beside him. It does not come from where he last heard Gladio, who could not have taken even the smallest step without making some noise. It comes from ahead. His face quickly turns to it, as his hand falls to Prompto’s shoulder, gripping tightly. Ignis’ face changes, distress showing in the way his brow pulls together. “Prompto,” he says, and it’s so jarring to all of them, each of them startles. At once, when he asks, “has Noctis… has he… has his body slipped?” he’s almost drowned out by Gladio swearing, and he feels Prompto jerk under his hand.

Prompto stands up in a rush. He doesn’t leave Ignis’ side, just stands rigidly. He tries to speak, but instead, a startling, perturbing cry leaves him. 

Gladio  _ moves _ . It takes him seconds to get to the throne. 

And in seconds, Noctis is in his arms.

Noctis. Their King. 

Standing. Breathing. 

Alive. 

It’s the sound of his father’s sword dematerializing from Noctis’ grasp, back into the Armiger. That’s what Ignis hears, and it’s what tells him that Noctis is there. He sways into Prompto, forgetting to breathe for a moment. 

Because Gladio won’t let go of him, and Noctis will not ask him to, not ever, he reaches an arm out instead. Prompto jerks again, instantly wanting to go forward, but he instead slowly turns back to Ignis. Prompto looks into his face as he weeps silently, and delicately takes the hand from his shoulder, guiding it instead to the inside of his arm, right above the elbow. 

Noctis watches, face half pressed into his shield’s chest, smiling faintly. His arm stays stretched out to them. 

Prompto looks up to his King over his shoulder, eyes stinging as he tries to return the expression, but they well up and he begins sobbing again as he turns fully around and walks carefully to the few steps between them, Ignis coming with him. Prompto feels Ignis’ fingers pressing into his skin, something that Ignis hasn’t needed for years. But he does need it, right now. They both do. He remembers to stop right at the base of the first step and pause for a beat to indicate to Ignis that there’s a change in the path. Each step up is taken swifter than the last. 

Prompto reaches across Ignis for his free arm, his hand beneath Ignis’, lifting it so it’s out in front of him. He lets Ignis’ hand meet Noctis’ first. Watches their fingers curl together. 

It’s Gladio who pulls away just enough to tug them both in. 

Ignis’ arms wrap around Noctis’ shoulders, their cheeks pressed into each other. Noctis turns just enough to let his lips brush against Ignis’ skin. Ignis is warm, while his lips are not. Not yet. His forehead rests against Prompto’s when he steps in, sharing the air between them. One breathing normally, the other gasping between choked whimpers. Gladio rests his head on top of both of theirs, Noctis’ hand that had just been in Ignis’ lifting to the back of his neck, fingers pushing gently into his hair. 

His other hand stays limp. The ring of Lucii catches a glint from the sun above them. 

“Guess death didn’t stick,” Noctis says, and his heart clenches as Ignis, Prompto, and Gladio each press in closer. 

They do not break apart from each other until the daylight is fully overhead. 

\--------------------

Prompto begs to get out of the light. He hides from it for weeks. Hides from it, and from Noctis. For a while, he stays inside, and the only people he lets into his small loft area, built for him in Cid’s garage after the world went to ruin, are Cindy and Ignis. 

Somehow, the light brings back with it what had been lost between him and Ignis at some point, during those ten years. After Noctis disappeared inside the crystal, they’d lost Gladio from their arms, too, not long after. He hadn’t been able to reconcile surviving his prince. Hadn’t been able to go from three mouths to kiss to two. Chose to live on with none. Prompto and Ignis understood, but they missed him, missed Noctis, and that hurt never stopped. Without half of their hearts, they’d lasted the first four years. Before the guilt tore through them, and things left unspoken for so long, they couldn’t go back there. 

Now, they find each other again, and forgiveness comes easily. 

When Ignis does persuade Prompto outside again, Noctis is there to meet him. He smirks, and Prompto doesn’t want to go back in as quickly. It’s still a long time before he can stand the sun again. 

Noctis is patient. 

He came back to them, and now they have to come back to him, too. 

Ignis was the only one who had been prepared to lose him, both for ten years and forever. He’d come to terms with his guilt. It became worse after he’d separated from Prompto. But gradually, he’d found peace. Noctis coming back only gave him more. They don’t have to spend as much time healing as they do catching up and making up for the time gone. 

Noctis knows that Prompto needs to go slower. They focus on spending time together, finding the easiness again. It takes Prompto a while to look at him for long periods of time. To joke and actually laugh with him again. But they get there. One day, Prompto bumps his arm playfully, and they both stop, looking at the spot for a long time, Noctis smiling all the while. They get there.

Gladio missed him for ten years, and he doesn’t need more time. It’s the fastest, with him. They’re always touching, and Noctis knows Gladio needs it, so he lets it happen. He needs it, too, and leans into it. Neither wants to spend any more time alone. Having someone to hold again grounds them both. Even if, for a while, most of what they do is sprawl out together and sleep. Gladio doesn’t let Noctis feel bad about it. Insomnia won’t be rebuilt in a day. 

When they do begin reviving the kingdom, it’s effortless how they fall into their new roles. Ignis reestablishes himself as Noctis’ advisor and tactician once more. Gladio continues to lead the Crownsguard and brings them back into the city, overseeing the rebuilding that has to be done. Iris arrives to help him, hugging Noctis impossibly tight when she finally sees him. Prompto brings citizens back once they’ve made several districts inhabitable again, and helps them adjust. 

The four of them don’t come back together for some time. Several months pass before, one warm evening, Noctis looks at Ignis from where he’s leaned against Gladio’s side, taking a rare evening to have dinner together. They still have stories to share with Noctis about the ten years in darkness, and Prompto mentioning the crystal for the first time revives memories that bring quiet with them. He reaches to touch the back of his hand to Ignis’ fingertips, to draw his attention. Ignis faces him as though he can see Noctis perfectly. 

Noctis smiles sadly. “Thank you for not stopping me, even though you knew.” 

He’s jostled sharply as Gladio pushes himself up from his reclined position. His shield’s expression is tight, disbelieving. “What do you mean, ‘even though he knew?’” 

Quickly taking his hand, Noctis also sits up. He opens his mouth to respond, but Ignis’ fingers squeeze his other hand, while he sighs. Prompto shifts beside him, heavy-lidded eyes wary and as confused as Gladio’s. 

“When I put on the Ring of Lucii, it showed me glimpses of what was to come. Since Altissia, I knew that Noctis would be drawn into the crystal. I did not-” 

Gladio rises, pulling his hand from Noctis’, and leaves. Only hours later does he return. After Ignis has explained earnestly to Prompto, Noctis sitting quietly with them, that he didn’t say anything because he knew it must happen. That he hadn’t wanted to place that on either Prompto or Gladio, because it had broken his heart to watch Noctis go ahead while they’d held off the daemons, and nothing else he’d ever done in his life had been harder than letting Noctis do so. Prompto listens, biting his lower lip as he does. 

“I’m sorry, Prompto.” 

All Prompto does is hug Ignis. Shortly after, they tell Noctis goodnight, leaving him with a sweet kiss, and a hand cupping his cheek briefly, before departing for their new home in the inner city. 

Noctis rolls over in the dark when Gladio comes back. Gladio drops into bed beside him, right into his hold. 

The King leaves them to figure it out. And, with time, they do. 

Prompto joins Gladio to train in the citadel one morning, the sun not even risen. With the ring’s power granted to Noctis, they’ve discovered warping is now possible for them as well. It still makes Gladio nauseous. He hears Noctis’ self-satisfied voice in his head every time, telling him, “I’m gonna go just as hard on you as you did to me when I was learning this.” 

Prompto, shocking himself, is a natural. His bullets make it easy to aim wherever he wants to be and soar there in seconds, sometimes barely leaving the streak of light that the rest of them are trailed by. 

Occasionally, he fires blindly. 

The rubber bullet hits Gladio first, before Prompto’s full weight plows into him. He’s used to this from Noctis. But with Noctis, he can anticipate it. Prompto has always been harder for him to do that with. Dust clouds up around them as Gladio digs his heels into the earth with the impact, only barely managing not to crash onto the ground. 

He grips Prompto tightly. It’s natural, old habit returning, as Prompto’s legs lift up to wrap around his waist, heels pressing into the small of Gladio’s back. 

“Sorry, big guy,” he says, breathless and sheepish, clearly having not meant to do this. But also clearly finding it funny. 

Gladio lifts one brow, helplessly grinning back at him. 

It’s when it softens that Prompto just leans in. 

If Ignis is with Noctis, Gladio starts spending some nights with Prompto. 

Insomnia grows again, though slowly, and it will never be exactly as it was. 

Slightly more than a year later, finally, Gladio tells Ignis that he forgives him. That it hurts, but he knows he would have done the same thing. They’re walking side-by-side through the high Citadel halls to meet Noctis for a briefing of policies he needs to approve. When Gladio says it, just like he would voice any other thought, simply, straightforward, it brings Ignis to a halt. 

He clutches the folders he holds against his chest. Gladio keeps walking.

Only days after that, Gladio steps into the council room for yet another meeting, finding Ignis to be the only person there so far. At first he pauses just inside the door, taking in the sight of Ignis leaned over the table with his eyes clenched shut, visor discarded beside the stack of papers he has prepared. From where he is, Gladio can tell he’s shaking. 

In a few steps, he’s next to Ignis, tapping the top of the table first, then taking Ignis’ arm when he instantly looks up. It takes a second, Ignis bringing his free hand up, placing it on top of Gladio’s where he’s touching him. Something yanks harshly inside Gladio’s chest, realising Ignis doesn’t recognise his touch anymore. 

But then Ignis’ face turns up to his. “Gladio?” 

“Yeah,” he breathes back. Ignis’ hand tightens over his, only just. 

Gladio slides his hand up over Ignis’ shoulder, draws it up his neck, feeling the other man’s quick pulse, and brushes his knuckles over Ignis’ cheek. Ignis’ hand stays with his. He gasps, a breath that cuts short, as Gladio’s forehead bumps his. 

“You’re not doing this alone, Iggy,” Gladio says, quiet, yet firm, too. A promise. 

Ignis sits to Noctis’ left during the meeting while Gladio is on his right, but Gladio looks at him often throughout it and Ignis, somehow, feels it. Several times, they both have to keep themselves from smiling. 

Noctis catches it, hiding his face behind a folder because he’s still not as good as they are at keeping his expressions in check. When he bumps Prompto afterward, walking out of the room, Prompto gives him a curious look until Noctis shifts his shoulder just slightly to indicate behind them. Prompto doesn’t even try to glance back casually. He whips around to see Gladio still sitting, Ignis leaning into his space with his hands on the armrests of Gladio’s chair, and grabs Noct, shaking him slightly. 

Gladio doesn’t even look over, just says, “Think you’ve got kingly stuff to do, Your Majesty, and you can go with him, Prom.” 

Ignis adds, “Do lock the door as you go.” 

\-------------------

From there, there’s still healing. Still nightmares, one of them waking thinking all of the others are gone, or not remembering that morning will come and bring the comforting dawn with it. Still painful memories that take time to speak of. Still grieving that they didn’t truly get the time to do, before. 

A memorial is built, standing tall over Insomnia where the border of the wall once used to stand, near the bridge leading out to the rest of Eos. Not for anyone specific, but for the people of Insomnia, as a whole. A place they can come to find strength, hope, faith. It becomes a landmark where families and friends reunite with each other. It’s one of the first places light falls upon every morning.

Still, every time Noctis looks at it, he thinks of his father. 

He knows, when his father’s sword sank into his chest, something happened. His father pleaded with their ancestors to let him truly have a chance to be the King. The Chosen King. 

To let him have a chance to live. 

And then Noctis looks at Prompto. At Ignis. At Gladio. 

He didn’t experience the ten years of darkness, but nevertheless. He knows that, without them, nothing would be light. 


End file.
